


every step of the way

by Babystiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Comforts Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 22:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19858687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babystiles/pseuds/Babystiles
Summary: "When someone is raped they typically go through stages. They blame themselves, they try to go on as if nothing happened, they struggle with emotional and psychiatric disorders such as anxiety, PTSD, depression, disassociation, sexual dysfunction. I always looked at rape victims and I thought 'I can't imagine what they must feel', and I still can't figure it out"





	every step of the way

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read

Stiles bit at the nail of his thumb, his leg shaking uncontrollably as he stared down at the tiled floor. The white tiles were speckled with tiny flakes of grey, shining under the translucent lights that were casting a glow too bright for his aching eyes. His muscles continuously clenched involuntarily, aching and shivering inside of his goose-bump riddled body. He had sat down exactly 178 seconds ago, after giving the basic information to the nurse at the front door. 

With a trembling hand Stiles reached into his back pocket and pulled his phone out, his fingers quivering horribly against it. The phone slipped from his grip with a clatter to the tiles, his eyes falling shut on a pained, restrained breath out. His stomach clenched upon bending down, his fingers slipping multiple times before he managed to get a grip on his phone and pick it up. The entirety of his body was screaming at it, every single cell and fiber aware of themselves, making him feel uncomfortable and itchy.

Stiles managed to get a handle of his limbs enough to type in his code and click on his contacts. He had to force his fingers to stop shaking enough to scroll through the names without accidently clicking on one, which he had failed. He almost called multiple people before he got to the name he needed and finally pressed it. The ringing was too loud for the aching in his head and the phone was too cold against his ear. 

"Stiles?" the voice sent a rush of air back into his lungs, like he had been drowning and he finally resurfaced. It was only for a brief moment, but that feeling of relief and safety lingered for just a few more seconds when he started to swallow water again. 

"Are you in trouble? It's 2am" Stiles hadn't even realized the time until the person said it. Stiles shivered a bit as a pain shot up his stomach. 

"I need you. I'm at the hospital. Don't- don't tell any one. I just- I need you. Please" Stiles' voice was broken and shaky, barely there above a whisper as he stared at the double doors that led out of the waiting room. He'd been sitting for 272 seconds. 

"I'm on my way" Stiles allowed his phone to fall and his eyes to shut as the relief washed over him for another brief second. The man didn't question Stiles, he didn't demand to know what happened, he accepted, and that's what Stiles' needed right now. 

"Stiles" the boy looked up and breathed out shakily as Melissa came out of those double doors, her face twisted up with concern and fury. She smiled something with pity and sadness as she extended her hand out, not close enough to make the anxiety thrumming in his veins to worsen, just enough to get him out of the chair. Stiles stood on shaky legs, his breathing coming in pants as he followed her back to a room. 

Melissa didn't speak as he gave him a hospital gown and gestured towards the bathroom. It took him ten minutes to gather his bearings enough to change. He had to stop to breathe when he caught his reflection in the mirror and bile started crawling up his throat. His entire body was shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm, making the task of pulling off his pants without faceplanting and smacking his face on the toilet extremely difficult, but he managed. 

Melissa took his clothing with gloved hands and placed them all in plastic bags, zipped them tight and put them to the side. 

"I'm going to get the nurse, I'm not trained for these cases. If you ask I'll come running, got it?" her voice was firm but soft, her hands twitching at her sides like she was physically refraining from wrapping him in a blanket and hugging the pain away.

"Mel, don't... don't tell anyone yet" he whispered, looking down at his bare feet. He heard the sigh that the woman let out but he didn't look up to see what expression she was wearing. 

"I won't" she left the room without another word, pausing at the door for one more pained look. Stiles' body was starting to numb. 

Another nurse came in a minute later, Stiles still standing in the same position with his head bowed. 

"Stiles, my name is Rachelle, I'm going to be right here by your side during this whole process alright?" Upon looking up, Stiles found a warm looking red headed woman in her early forties. She was wearing baby pink scrubs that didn't hurt his eyes, her mouth wasn't curled up with a pitying smile, her stance was inviting, and her eyes were soft. Stiles nodded slowly, his throat closing on a hard swallow. 

"Alright. The first thing we want to do is assess all the injuries, do you feel comfortable enough right now for that? I want to document as much as we can" Rachelle said, keeping her eyes straight forward on his. Stiles nodded, sniffling once as he pulled the gown off of his shoulders, allowing it to fall to his navel, holding it at his waist. Rachelle didn't make any significant reactions or noises as she started jotting things down onto a paper attached to her clipboard. She noted the bruises littering his stomach, chest, and back; the bite marks along his upper back, his neck and his shoulders; the three scratches on his left hip; the cut above his left brow; the scratches on his right cheek and cheekbone; the finger shaped bruises on both of his wrists; and the multiple bruises on both of his legs. She didn't say a word as she finished and helped him tie his gown. 

"Next order or business, we're going to take some blood, then we're going to give you a Tetanus shot, we'll have you pee in a cup, then we'll take it from there. Alright?" Stiles nodded, blinking slow. Rachelle nodded, writing one more thing on her paper before putting her pen in the pocket of his scrubs and turning to the two and half foot grey rolling cart, three big drawers at the bottom and three smaller ones on top of them. She pulled out a little plastic cup and handed it to him 

"Fill this up to the line and put it on the sink. I'll be right back" when the nurse opened the door, Stiles could hear shouting and a distinct voice filtering in the room demanding they see Stiles. 

"Rachelle" Stiles' voice cracked on the 'e'. The woman turned away from the noise with a quirked brown. "Let that man in please" the woman nodded a bit hesitantly and walked out. Stiles didn't move, he stood there and stared at the door until it opened and a man was slipping through, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed dangerous low, jaw clenched right. Stiles could see the moment he smelled it, smelled the traces of the scent, the blood that had spilled, the blood straining against his bruised skin, the fear, the pain. 

"Can you smell him?" Stiles asked, throat tight. The other man didn't say anything, they stood there, the mans eyes trailing over Stiles' covered body like he was trying to see the bruises through the gown. 

"Derek" the man looked up into Stiles' eyes and have one, confirming nod. "Can you memorize it or something? I need you to track it once I get out of here, can you do that for me?" He asked tightly. Derek looked back at the door then to Stiles, and nodded again. 

"Stiles-" his sentence broke off as he shifted his foot with an abandoned step forward. "Why didn't you call Scott? Or your dad?" He asked. Stiles swallowed hard, his jaw locking as he thought about the hands pinning his wrists to a cold, hard brick wall, the teeth that dug into his skin with little restraint, the ripping, the pain. 

"Scott would track the guy, tip off the police and be satisfied with life in prison, and dad would rip apart the town to come to the same results" stiles paused, his jaw flexing. "But you'll lead me to him and you won't try and stop me when I kill him" Derek breathed out heavily through his nose and nodded. 

"Let's get you through this and once we're done, and you've rested, I'll take you to him" Derek's words had the air returning to Stiles' lungs, his numb body stiffening a bit with dull anticipation. 

"I have to go pee in a cup now" 

————

It took nearly seven hours. Stiles was exhausted and slightly delirious, but Derek was there every second of the process. He waited outside as a doctor examine Stiles fully, he held Stiles' hand during the Tetanus shot and the blood work, he squeezed it gently when they told him he had chlamydia, stood outside the door when they took photo after photo of every bruise, scrap, and scratch on Stiles' body. 

Derek got Stiles cranberry juice and crackers after the forth hour when Stiles' stomach rumbled even thought he claimed he wasn't hungry and watched him intently until the crackers were gone and the juice was down. He held his hand and rubbing his arm gently to soothe him to sleep for a short two hours that left him feeling only a tiny bit less numb than before. 

At 9am Derek drove Stiles to the loft. Stiles' dad thought he had left home early to meet up with Heather for a project, and the rest of the pack think he and Derek were traveling for boring alpha/emissary business. 

The loft was quiet when they walked in. Stiles dropped his antibiotics on the kitchen counter, shucked his shoes off, and sat curled up on the couch. He stared blankly at the tv and listened as Derek made them both coffee. 

"When someone is raped they typically go through stages. They blame themselves, they try to go on as if nothing happened, they struggle with emotional and psychiatric disorders such as anxiety, PTSD, depression, disassociation, sexual dysfunction. I always looked at rape victims and I thought 'I can't imagine what they must feel', and I still can't figure it out" Stiles could feel tears welling in his eyes and he couldn't hear Derek shifting around in the kitchen anymore. 

"I just feel.... numb. Not the type of numb where someone says they feel like they're floating outside of their body and just watching themselves live. It's the type of numb where you're too aware of your body, but not aware in a physical sense but a mental one. It feels like my entire being has shriveled up– just curled up in surrender and went into hiding. And I can't imagine what a rape victim feels like because I can't even feel anymore. 

"When I first got it the hospital, and I had just sat down and thought popped into my head. When everything was so horribly fresh and I could feel my own blood rushing through my veins, I thought I'd be fine. I had thought that since I'm the research guy, since I know everything about the process and the affects already that I'd be able to guide myself through whatever process I'm supposed to be following and now I have no idea what to do. I can barely remember how to breathe, I feel way too aware of my own body, there's so many thoughts jumping around my head that it's all just white noise and static at this point and I'm honestly surprised that after all this I'm still able to ramble" stiles scoffed at himself, feeling hot tears slide down his sickly pale cheeks. 

"And I had thought 'ok Stiles this wasn't your fault, you won't feel all those feelings that google had said you're going to feel' but I do. I feel ashamed and embarrassed that this happened. That I couldn't stop it myself. That's not healthy and deep down I know it's not the truth but those feelings are still there and their suffocating. I'm nauseous with fear and anxiety and shame and I can't fucking stop it. I don't want to feel this way, I don't want to fall apart but that's all that my body will do" Derek comes out of the kitchen when Stiles feels his tears start to hit his neck. The man was carrying two small bowls and two cups on a tray. He set them down the coffee table and sat on the couch a few feet away from Stiles. 

"Fall apart" he said. "If that's what you need to do, then fall. Let every little piece of you break... then bring yourself back. Drown in your anxieties and fears but you better resurface because we need you..." he paused for a long moment, keeping eye contact. "I need you" he added in a whisper. Stiles was quiet for a long moment, allowing his tears to spill freely. 

"Will you help me?" He asked hoarsely. Derek didn't hesitate to nod. 

"I'll be here every step of the way"


End file.
